Sleeping Tigers
by ElesaryAyres
Summary: What if Giselle had survived the fall? What would her life with Han be like? Will Letty remember her previous life? His Hobbs in love with Elena? Is Mia pregnant again? No one has ever lived as fast as they do.


Giselle

Sunday, January 26

7:57 PM

Sundays belonged to the Toretto's. Mia told me the weekly after-church barbeque that gradually turned into a party when evening came stretched back to her grandfather, who was trying to recreate the community he and his young wife had left behind when they migrated from Italy.

But now the house stood silent, and even through the pain I hated being the cause of the break in tradition.

Gauze covered my entire face, forehead to eyelids to chin-ey-chin- chin. My hands were wrapped, and my back was struggling to become used to the new skin they had grafted on during one of my many surgeries. I drifted from nightmare to nightmare of falling and that sickening crunch and slick slide that was my ribs cracking and my skin giving way to the hard pavement as I slid.

I knew more than felt Han's fingers gently holding one of mine, Mia sat at my other side, and I knew the rest of the crew was coming and going, never leaving me and Han alone. I still wished they were having their barbeque.

I wondered if they would stay after the gauze was removed and the wreckage that was my body was revealed. I wondered if I would be strong enough to watch Han leave, or be happy for him if he found someone who was whole.

Or would I be too weak and beg him to stay?

I had taken a chance when I let go to shoot his attacker, I was strong enough to do that much at least, and now I had to believe I was strong enough to deal with the consequences of those actions. I drifted off again before I could fully contemplate my options.

_The road is empty as far as the eye can see, from where the horizon gobbles up the highway behind us to the mountains that seem to be rising directly before us. We are going very, very fast and the sound of the engines purr is almost as arousing as the fact that I am sitting in Han's lap and he is kissing me as he drives…_

I woke again to droplets of water on my wrists, which seemed to be the only part of my body not ravaged. I managed to wrench my eyelids up, but they refused to stay open, leaving me with a blurry image of Han, shoulders shaking. _Was he crying?_

My mouth was too dry to speak and my hand and fingers were far too heavy to control. I couldn't do anything to comfort him before I'm gone again.

_The Caribbean water is cool and calm on my body. My hair floats like seaweed around my face. I stick out my tongue at a curious fish who has decided to nibble on it. Something shiny catches my eye. I forget the fish and swim toward it, skimming the white sands. It is a palm size abalone shell that has caught the light. I examine it, then, lungs bursting, head for the surface. I shove my facemask upward as soon as I reach air, holding my prize high enough so that Han, standing shirtless on the small yacht can see my treasure. "Beautiful," he says, although his eyes never leave mine…_

I swam back to reality, but the voices sounded distorted, as if I was still underwater. Slowly, they began to form words, but I could never catch an entire sentence. "fine, the doctors said…" that was Mia's voice.

"don't know when…" Dom's voice was just as low as I remembered.

"might be able to hear us…" Was that? Could that be Letty?

"she would want that…." Brian said.

"love you." That was Han, and the rest was silence.

_The wine is red and rich on my tongue, the salmon is cooked to perfection. But better then all that is the view. Paris is stretched below us, a blanket stitched with stars. Han pops a piece of bread into his mouth and grabs my hand, and smiles his signature smirk…_

I was thirsty, I tried to swallow, but that just hurt my throat. My eyes focused on the covered cup of water on the table by my bedside, I watched my hand shake, and felt the burn of skin stretching uncomfortably, like a bad indian burn across my entire back. Black spots covered my vision as the door opened, my hand, just catching the edge of the edge of the glass, knocked it over, water soaked my gauze as Han called my name.

_The world spins as Han picks me up like a child and twirls around. I laugh and grab his waist, trusting him not to drop me. The leaves are brown and crunching under his feet. He slows to a stop, but holds me as the sun breaks over the Adirondacks, illuminating one of the most beautiful view I have ever see, or maybe its just his steady heartbeat against my side._

I could move my fingers and swallow without pain, when I blinked, my eyelids didn't click or hurt. I wiggled my toes, and tried to speak, "Han?" I croaked.

"Oh, God!" Mia said, flying to my side, "Giselle! You're awake!"

"Han…"

"I made him get coffee! Just hold on, he hasn't left your side at all!" she clasped my hand.

Her voice spiraled away from me…

_His hands are gentle on my face as he kisses me, he walks me back to the clean white bed. I am nervous, I feel as if I am a virgin again, because I have never felt what Han makes me feel. His fast smoker fingers are clever and know exactly how to play my body and make me sing. When we come together I feel whole and cherished and maybe even loved. And he looks at me the same way in the morning as he did in the night…_

When I woke again my head was finally clear. I stared at the ceiling for a moment and counted the beeps that I finally realized where monitoring my vitals. The hands that held mine tightened. "Giselle?" Han asked incredulously. "Can you hear me?"

I turned my head slowly, scared I would black out again. "Han?" I croaked.

His body seemed to deflate slightly as he dropped his head onto our clasped hands. His shoulders shook and he rained kisses on my fingers. I carefully ran my other hand through his hair, ignoring the way it shook under the bandages.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear me?" he sounded so desperate that I nodded, even though I knew I would do it ten times over.

I shifted on the bed, ignoring the burn-tug sensation. "Lay down with me," I told him, needing to feel close to him after being so sure I was letting go of his hand for the last time.

He looked uncertain for a moment. "It'll hurt more if you don't," I said, which seemed to make up his mind for him, because he crawled on top of the covers with no more hesitation, wrapping one arm around me. I closed my eyes and cuddled into his familiar chest.

"Sleep," he ordered, and I obeyed without a murmer.


End file.
